Masquerade
by Kaci Brianna
Summary: Prequel to Dancing With Tears In My Eyes.* Before you read any of this story, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zexion Ienzo. This story you're reading is of how I met, fell in love with, lost, and found again the love of my life, my bestfriend, Demyx Myde.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I know I have a butt-ton of other stories I should be working on, but this popped into my head and I can't deny it any longer. Inspired by Lisa Eldridge's masquerade makeup tutorial, I figured "Mhm, yes, this sounds nice" c:_

* * *

_Prologue:_

Before you read any of this story, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zexion Ienzo. This story you're reading is of how I met, fell in love with, lost, and found again the love of my life, my best friend, Demyx Myde. My reasoning for writing this and sharing it with you is to gather everything for myself to potentially understand it better. I realize that sounds silly—if it's my story, why should I feel confused about it and feel the need to write it out to understand it better? It's simply how I am.

And so, without any further ado, this is my story.

* * *

**Chapter 1**:

It can certainly be a pain in the ass to be traveling Europe on your own for the first time. As someone who was born and raised in the United States of America, many people are either interested in life there or shun you based on the country's attitudes towards them. Sometimes, though, you meet someone who is completely unbiased, someone who doesn't care whether you come from the States or Timbuktu, someone who is only interested in who you are as a person.

So far, I've met one person like that, a small woman by the name of Xion. The woman approached me quietly one morning as I sipped coffee at a table outside a pastry shop. She spoke with a lightly French-accented voice, soft as a child's, but with a musical lilt to it.

"Is this seat taken?" was the sentence she spoke first to me.

For a moment, I debated whether I should lie and tell her that yes, it was indeed taken; however, with a quick look around I saw that it truly was the only available chair and I shook my head, a small smile on my face, and said, "It isn't."

Her eyebrows rose marginally, and she nodded, presumably in thanks. "Are you from America?" she questioned.

"I am," I answered, returning my gaze to my hands, which were wrapped around the warm mug of coffee.

I saw, from my peripheral vision, a smile light up her face. "I have friends there. What state are you from?"

I shrugged and felt a corner of my mouth tug up. "New York," I told her.

She said a quiet, "Oh." She then nodded. "I have two pen pals who live in California."

For a moment, she looked down at the table and was silent. Her right hand, I noticed, kept twirling a ring that was on her left ring-finger. Then she looked up at me. "I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said, "but I was wondering, why are you here?"

"I wanted to learn more about the culture here," I said lightly. "People in the states who have been here say it's either no different or a complete opposite. I was curious."

A breeze slipped through the air, carrying a scent of flowers with it. She shrugged. "From what my friends in America have told me, the most that's different is the language." She smiled again.

I, too, smiled. "That's about all I've found, too."

At that moment, a woman began walking towards us. She stopped behind Xion and tapped on her shoulder.

"I'm ready to go," the woman said.

Xion looked at her with wide eyes, her mouth in the shape of an _O_. Then she laughed. "I'm sorry, Aer," she said. "I was talking to..." She trailed off, looking at me with a questioning look on her face.

I cleared my throat and said, "Zexion."

"I was talking to Zexion," she finished with a glance at her friend. Then she stood up. Her friend looked back at Xion before linking their arms together and turning around. But Xion faced me again and said, "Zexion, would you like to come with us?"

I remember looking at her curiously. "Where are you going?"

Aerith said, in a voice softer than Xion's, "We're about to go shopping for gowns. There's a masquerade ball this weekend."

Xion nodded. "If you want to learn about the people here, wouldn't the best way to be around all of us when we can really be ourselves?"

I thought about it. What she said made sense: the easiest way to find out how the people here act is to be right in the middle of them. I looked between the two of them. "But why would you want me to come with you?"

Xion smiled. "You look lonely," she said shyly, "and why not?"

I sighed but smiled at the pair of women. "If you insist," I said, gathering my belongings and following the two.

* * *

**Author's note**:

And here's part/chapter one! I still haven't decided how long it's gonna be, but I know the general outline of it. Hopefully it won't turn into a Cinderella spin-off, because they usually tick me off. Anywho, I hope this wasn't too bad. I'm pretty much bullshitting a lot of it, because I've never been overseas, but still. I have enough friends who live over there to have a general idea c:


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Let's hope this chapter goes by faster than the first, right?_

* * *

I found out quickly that Xion was very bubbly. She wasn't annoying, nor was she rude; she was actually quite nice. She didn't like silence, though.

"How's life in America?" she asked me as we passed a lingerie store.

I looked at her with a smirk. "It would be a lot easier if there weren't as many ignorant people."

She nodded and replied with, "I feel like that about living here sometimes."

We passed another shop, this one serving every flavour of ice cream you could imagine.

I also found out relatively quickly that she enjoyed talking about her friends in California. "Their names are Roxas and Axel," she told me, a smile on her face. "They're together. They're strange though; you'd think that they'd make it a big deal, showing it off, you know. Axel's really flamboyant like that, but Roxas usually is the calm one. I guess that's because he's an only child." She paused and looked at me. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

I shook my head, murmuring a quiet, "No, I'm an only child, too."

She grinned and turned to Aerith. "Looks like you're the only person here with a brother or sister, Aer," she laughed.

She frowned, though I could see in her eyes she was amused. "Consider yourselves lucky," she said.

"Oh, he isn't that bad!" Xion countered.

To which Aerith said, "You don't live with him."

Xion rolled her eyes, and then looked at Aerith and me both. "Where do you two want to go?"

I looked at the brunette and said nothing, but it seemed she was in the same boat as I was. We both looked at Xion again, and she then laughed and said, "C'mon, Marluxia and Larxene are only a few streets away." Then she and Aerith both grabbed my hands and took off running.

"Do you know your measurements, Zexion?" Xion yelled over her shoulder.

I shook my head, though I knew it was of no use because she had her own head turned. "I don't," I told her.

"You're lucky then," she said, looking at me just long enough for me to see a grin on her face. "This place does everything by scratch!"

We then turned a corner, only to see a small boutique-like shop. It was painted in pastel pink and yellow stripes, with the words _Lumaria and Arlene Fabrics_ written in cursive above the entrance.

Xion ran right in, yelling, "Marluxia! Larxene! Aer and I are here!"

The next few moments were filled with scattered curses and banging, during which I looked around. The interior, like the exterior, was painted in pink and yellow. There were fabrics of all shapes, sizes, colours, and textures, ranging from silk to denim, from scraps to body-length stripes and every colour of the rainbow. There were only two windows: one of either side of the entryway's door. Both windows, however, were floor length and reached the ceiling, and with the sheerest of fabrics as a curtain, there was more than enough light to allow visibility in the shop.

Then two people entered, one man and one woman, and I understood immediately the colour scheme of the shop. The man, wearing a name tag bearing the name _Lumaria_, had soft pink hair. The woman, a blonde, wore a name tag with the name _Arlene_.

The woman also wore a scowl on her face. "I have one question for you, Xion," she said. "Have I not _explicitly_ told you not to yell in this building?"

I glanced at the raven-haired woman again to see her smiling guiltily. "Sorry, Larx," she said, "but I come with money!"

The blonde rolled her eyes and said to Aerith, "It's nice to see you, Aer, but who is this?" She looked at me.

Before I could say anything, Xion said, "That's Zexion. He's agreed to go to the masquerade with us."

I held my hand out politely and said, "It's nice to meet you, Ma'am."

She pursed her lips. "Call me Larxene; anything but 'ma'am' or 'Mrs.'"

I smiled. "Sure thing," I said.

"Well, well," the man said. He looked at me appraisingly before holding his hand out. "If it isn't another American," he said.

I nodded, shrugging.

"I assume Xion's already asked you all about her friends?" he asked

I looked at her to see her stick her tongue out and I laughed.

"Well, I'm Marluxia," he said, taking my hand again.

"It's nice to meet you," I said again.

He then turned to Aerith and Xion. "So? I know you both already know exactly what you want: let's hear it."

Then the two—Aerith and Xion—grinned and launched into full detail over their dresses. Marluxia nodded to Larxene, who smirked and he then motioned for me to follow him out of the main room.

"It can get pretty hectic with those girls," he said with a smile on his face. "I've known them for a few years now."

I raised my eyebrows and chuckled. "I've known them for a few hours," I said.

He shook his head but his smile widened into a grin. "Was it Xion that talked to you first? Aerith is usually the one to avoid human contact. I mean, she's polite and all, but she doesn't just go up to people like Xion."

I shrugged. "I was having a coffee, and the only open seat left when she got hers was across from me."

He nodded, and then clasped his hands. "So; the suit. Do you know what you want?"

I inhaled and exhaled slowly before admitting, "I don't know anything about suits. And Xion asked if I knew my measurements and all, and to be honest, I'm lucky if I can remember my shoe size."

He laughed and said, "Don't worry; I can do everything right now. Just follow along, and we'll be ready by the masquerade. And besides, going through all of the routine still won't take as long as the girls. Tuxes are actually pretty easy to do compared to gowns."

* * *

**Author's note: Holy ohmygodimsosorrythistooksolo ng**

**I've been swamped with school, friends, and the holidays as of late! I honestly only finished this chapter now because I decided to clean out my school binder, and in my personal binder I had a section paper-clipped off that had been clipped for so long that I forgot what it all was, and after deciphering my handwriting I found out it was pages that I'd written and thought I'd lost for this fic! And a few pages of a fic I never posted or copied onto any computer device, haha.**

**But! On a good note! I finally have a working computer again! For new followers of this fic/me, my laptop that held the final chapter of my now-discontinued Andley fic and of Fallen Angel kinda... sorta... crashed. The hard-drive, I mean. In August. And I've been working on the family computer since then, and even then I avoided writing with my family in the room because one time I was writing one of the fics (I think the communal fic, with all the ships in one) and my dad was dramatically reading the sentences I was writing which was. Uhm. Not very fun for me because holysonofabiscuiteater. That wasn't pretty. So yeah. Writing has been on the backburner for a while. But now, I can write again!**

**So yes. I honestly hope the next chapter, at least, comes sooner. We just came back from Winter break, and starting on the 9th, I have midterms. The 14th is when the rest of them start, and they should end of that week.**

**Oh god. Long update is long. I'm sorry, but I felt I owed you all an apology for being so late with updating!**


	3. Chapter 3

By the time we left, my wallet felt considerably lighter, though maybe that was only because I knew how much I'd just spent. Aerith decided to stay with Marluxia and Larxene, who apparently were training her as an apprentice. Xion and I now were wandering around town, randomly discussing friends and family.

"I'm an only child, obviously," she said, a small smile on her face. "It's not really annoying, but sometimes it feels like my parents are choking me."

I nodded. "It can be like that sometimes. I moved out pretty quickly though."

She looked at me and smiled. "I'm moving out next year. Roxas and Axel are offering me a room in their house."

"They seem like good friends," I noticed.

"They're my best friends," she said sadly. "Aerith doesn't like them much. She says I've changed since meeting them."

"How so?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I talk about them a lot."

"But if they're your best friends, how is that a bad thing?" I questioned, though more to myself than her.

"I guess because we've never physically met," she confessed. "Aerith doesn't trust them, I think."

I could tell the subject was making her uncomfortable, so I stopped it. Instead, I said, "How do you know those two—Marluxia and Larxene?"

She laughed. "Subtle subject change, Zexion," she said. "Yeah, they're crazy. Aerith's really good with clothes, though. She makes almost everything she wears, and some of mine, too. Marluxia and Larx moved here about five years ago, and they opened the shop. Aer has been coming for years for fabrics and chalk, so they offered her a job."

I nodded. "So you pretty much just tag along?"

She grinned. "Pretty much," she said.

We turned again and Xion pointed to a coffee shop. "Do you want to go in and warm up?"

I shrugged, but still I followed her inside. "Xion," I said after sitting down. "Can I ask you something?"

She looked at me and nodded. Just after we ordered out drinks, I asked, "What does your ring mean?"

A faint blush filled her fair cheeks. "It was a gift; nothing special," she murmured.

Eventually, however we went our separate ways, but only after promising to meet up again and _Lumaria & Arlene_'s the day following. I walked through the town quietly, finally stopping in front of my hotel and entering.

The first thing that I did was undress and put on pajamas. Then I fell asleep, soundly and quickly. I dreamt of nothing, only of a black abyss, and then not even that as exhaustion took over me.

* * *

I did spend much of the following days with Xion, finding out quite a lot in the short time. She lived with her parents still, but I already knew she was leaving the next year. She worked as a singer for local bars and parties, and she loved dressing up.

The night of the masquerade was living proof. Dressed in a knee-length black dress, she looked stunning. It had a scoop-neck and rather puffy, yet long sleeves. The back of the dress scooped low as well, but a corset with white ribbon and a medium-sized bow on her back where the knot would have been decorated it.

Her mask was equally as uniquely elegant. Solid white, save for black lace trim and one black jewel on the center of her forehead, it framed her oceanic doe-eyes. She looked very similar to a modern day Snow White.

Aerith, too, looked especially beautiful. Her dress was strapless, a pearly pink so light it was nearly white, and it reached the floor, a floral-like ribbon synching her waist. Her hair was expertly braided to the side, tied with her signature pink bow. Her mask was white velvet fabric with a thin line of silver ribbon trim.

It was fairly chilly night. Aerith, Xion, and I walked together to the hall where the ball was to be held. Xion kept saying she'd introduce me to certain people, like Aerith's brother and Marluxia and Larxene's daughter, Namine, if we could find them.

When we walked in, I was momentarily stunned, as cliché as it sounds. Hundreds of men and women, teenagers, and even a few children were dressed to impress. I saw bird-like masks with feathers, lace masks, masks with hooked and beaked noses, plain masks, bright masks, even a few brave enough to come without a mask. An orchestra played a soft tune in the back of the hall, all wearing matching solid black masks and suits, even the women.

I felt a hand tug on my arm to see Xion pointing at a man with silver hair. "Come with me!" she said, tugging me along behind her before I had a chance to say a word.

She didn't say anything until we both were firmly in front of the man. There was a second man there, though he seemed considerably younger, possibly still in his teens.

I glanced at Xion to see her eyes dancing behind her mask. "Hello," she said in a voice strained from trying not to laugh.

The smaller man grinned and dramatically bowed. "How are you this fine evening, Milady?"

"I am feeling just dandy, my good sir," Xion said, mimicking a look of great importance.

Then the taller man rolled his eyes. "Are you two serious? I know it's you, Xion."

At that, she burst out laughing, along with the shorter man.

"Xion, how are you, though?" the shorter of the two asked.

She smiled. "I'm really good. Zexion," she said, looking at me. "This is Sora," she pointed to the shorter man, "and Riku," she pointed at the taller of the two.

Sora held a hand out immediately. "Hi," he said.

"Hello," I replied politely. "I'm Zexion Ienzo."

"I've heard," he said, winking.

"Zexion's new. He's politely agreed to join Aer and me over here." Then her eyes widened and she looked around. "Where is she?"

The taller man, Riku, nodded to the other side of the hall. "She's with Zack."

Xion rolled her eyes. "I should've known." With a glance at me, she smiled and then looked around the room. She then pointed at the opposite end, to Aerith and a tall, black-haired man.

"That's Zack Fair, Aer's boyfriend," she explained to me.

Just then, the two smiled and leaned in for a kiss, and I looked away. "I see," I said. But, looking at Xion and seeing her eyes soften at the couple; I couldn't help but smile too.

* * *

It was an hour or so later, after much dancing and laughing, that Xion and I, along with Sora and Riku, walked outside and sat on the lit patio. It was also around that time that two men joined us on the porch: one tall with red hair, one about my own height and blonde. The taller of the two walked lightly on his feet, almost as though he were dancing, and stepped behind Xion, placing one hand over her eyes and the other arm across her chest.

He stooped low to whisper something in her ear. Then Xion screamed—at least, we thought she was screaming until she broke out of his hold and turned around to tackle-hug the man. A few moments later, she looked at the blonde, and then wrapped her arms around him, too.

"Oh my god! Axel? Roxas?" she asked over and over. "What the—when—is it really you guys?"

"Well clearly," the redhead said. His voice was American, and it wasn't as deep as I would have thought. "Otherwise, we would've called the cops on you for trying to suffocate us."

"But—but how?" She asked in disbelief. "You two live in the states—I only mentioned the ball once—two weeks ago, almost—how did you guys—"

The blonde answered with a wink, "We did our research… and Aerith helped." He smirked and nodded towards her as she and Zack joined us.

"But Aer hates you too," Xion said weakly.

"I beg to differ," Aerith said with a smile. "I took their Skype names and we planned their trip."

This time Xion said nothing except a tiny exclamation of, "Fuck you guys for not telling me."

Then Riku and Sora walked towards me and Riku murmured, "Do you know these guys, Zexion?"

I grinned. "Vaguely; they're Xion's pen pals."

Riku looked questioningly at the blonde. "Hey, Sor—he looks like you: short, thin, spiky hair—" he stopped with a laugh as the blonde and Sora stared at each other and Sora hit him in the stomach.

The redhead, who overheard, laughed aloud too. "You two _do_ look like twins, Rox!"

"Triplets, more like," I said, pointing to Xion and looking between Roxas and Sora. "Except for the hair, they're all the same height and have the same eyes."

He looked over at me and grinned, nodding. "Another American in the land of crumpets and tea?"

Xion said before I could, "This is Zexion. We met a few days ago, and he was kind enough to join Aer and me this evening."

"Well, I'm Axel," he introduced himself. "Fire extraordinaire and resident fire-crotch."

I took his hand and said lamely, "Hey."

The blonde then turned to me. "I'm Roxas, and I'm sorry about him," he said, rolling his eyes and taking my hand as well.

"Well, clearly I'm Zexion," I said awkwardly.

"I'm Riku." The man stepped forward calmly. "And this is Sora," he said, pointing to the brunette.

Sora stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend. "I'm more than capable of introducing myself, Riku, thank you very much."

We all dissolved into laughter as a new song began playing inside the building. We all looked at each other before each of the couples melted away inside and onto the floor—Riku and Sora, Axel and Roxas, Aerith and Zack—until Xion and I were the only two left.

"Wanna dance?" she said, her eyes bright. I shrugged, and let her grab my hand and lead me onto the floor.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I feel like it's been so long since I've last updated! I wrote a majority of this chapter a few weeks ago but never got around to typing it up and saving in onto my computer. I noticed the pages lying on my desk this morning and figured, why not? And so, chapter three! I think chapter 4 is when things will get more interesting, as it's when I'm thinking I'm going to introduce the other half of the ship. c; Anywho, if any of you are interested in following me on other websites or whatever, my twitter is ****3kacib**** and my instagram is ****cougarlips****. As of now, also, my tumblr is ****cougarlipsandfamousanus****... the URL, before you ask, is a reference to the sixth Black Veil Brides interview Bryan Stars did.**

**But whatever. Please be patient for the next chapter. I hope I'll have it written and posted sooner, but no promises. I will write it though; I'm really excited for this fic.**

**As always, I'm sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors, and I'd appreciate it a ton if you could tell me in a review or PM if you see any! I think I fixed most, if not all, of them as I finished writing the chapter, but you can never really tell until someone else reads it.**


	4. Chapter 4

It was a quarter to eleven when I left Xion. I smiled to myself as I sat down with my drink. Xion was dancing with Axel and Roxas, spinning and twirling and jumping around with the pair. The three, in general, were dancing as obnoxiously as they could around the adults who were trying to make an impression. Sora and Riku, having been dancing all night, left to have dinner at a restaurant downtown. Aerith and Zack were sitting outside together, talking quietly. I was alone, but I was content. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives, and I was no exception.

I rested my eyes as I sipped my wine. My night was very eventful, what with our meeting Axel and Roxas for the first time. I was happy for Xion, though. She found out her best friends had come from a different country to meet her, and also found out her closest friend didn't hate her best friends as she'd originally thought. A smirk formed on my lips as I recalled the light in her eyes as we all were dancing.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

It was almost comical, I thought, that the first sentence he'd spoken to me coincidently was also the first sentence spoken to me by Xion. I opened my eyes to see a fairly tall guy, though not as tall as Axel. He appeared to be as tall as Riku. He was, of course, wearing a mask: dark blue with lighter blue specks towards the edges of the mask, framing his sea-foam green eyes. His hair—nearly collar-bone length and dirty blonde—was hidden underneath a Fedora style hat, which was angled low enough to hide the majority of his face.

"Be my guest," I said.

As he sat, he said, "You seemed lonely."

I shook my head. "I'm not," I told him honestly, but with no conviction towards him either.

"Not anymore," he said with a wink. He smiled. "How has your evening been?"

"Small talk, huh?" I asked jokingly.

He grinned unabashedly. "How's the weather?" he rivaled, an eyebrow rising.

"It's wonderful," I countered.

The guy laughed. Looking at the few couples still dancing, he shook his head. "Look at them—they don't have a care in the world. They just dance. Even the three, it's clear the redhead and the blonde are together but they're so happy with the black haired girl that they're including her in their shenanigans. And they have nothing on their minds except each other."

He turned to look at me. "Why haven't you gone to dance?"

"I did," I told him. "I danced with the black haired girl at the start of the night."

"Xion? Yeah, I guess you did," he said, his eyes widening. "But that doesn't count. You didn't come with a partner?"

I shook my head. "I'm visiting and was invited to come," I said for what felt like the millionth time.

The guy was quiet after I said that. He watched the people still dancing. His eyes followed them almost longingly. Then, abruptly, he stood up and moved in front of me, one hand held out between us. "Come dance with me," he said.

I'm sure I looked at him like he'd grown a third eye. He smiled at me again and wiggled the fingers on his extended hand. "I'm not going to bite. Perfectly harmless, I am," he joked.

I shook my head and was about to say, "I don't know how to dance," when he grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet, saying, "Just follow my lead and trust me."

He led me to the middle of the floor and began to dance, holding my hands in his. He didn't seem to be following any sort of beat that I could think of, but he danced well enough that I didn't focus too much on it.

"So what's your name?" he asked in a nonchalant tone.

"Romeo," I said carelessly. It wasn't intentional, but I was looking around, trying to find Xion—it appeared as though she'd stepped outside with Axel and Roxas.

"Really?" he questioned. "Do you know of a girl named Juliet who happens to be thirteen years old?"

Grinning, I turned back to him. He then asked, "How about I call you America?"

"Why is everyone making such a big deal about that? You guys seem like you get loads of us over here."

"Oh we do," he said with a shrug. "We just love teasing you guys. You're so touchy about it." He smiled and looked down at me, tightening his fingers on mine fractionally.

"Then what can I call you?" I said.

"Anything you please," he said. "But as you won't tell me your name, I won't give you mine. I'll go by anything: Blondie, Giraffe, Dork, Jackass—take your pick."

I shook my head, more exasperatedly than anything else. "How about you call me what you think my name is, and I'll call you Blondie?"

"That's not fair!" he said, laughing. "I'll call you Blue, then."

I smirked. "Fair enough, Blondie."

He laughed again. "So do you like dancing?"

"Oh yeah," I said sarcastically. "My lack of balance and talent are so helpful, you know."

"You aren't that bad," he said with an easy smile. "But maybe it's because you're dancing with me and I'm amazing, of course—"

"Conceited dick!" I laughed, looking up at him.

He let go of one of my hands and placed his own over his chest. "You wounded me, Blue, you really did!"

I rolled my eyes as he took my hand in his again. He led us into a different direction, slowing the dance, still ignoring the beat given from the orchestra's song. "Fine, fine," he said, "I confess. I'm not amazing…. I'm phenomenal."

This time I only shook my head and glanced at Xion, who reentered and sat down with Axel and Roxas. They each were laughing at Roxas, who was clearly saying something amusing.

"Do you know Xion, then?" he asked, catching my attention again.

"Yeah, kind of," I said. "I just met her a week or so ago, honestly."

I glanced back at Xion, then to the blonde again to see a worried look clouding his features. "I wish she wouldn't have come alone," he said.

"Why?" I asked him confusedly.

Again, he took his hand away from mine and wiggled his left ring finger in front of me. "Her fiancé. He's a possessive dick—doesn't 'approve' of the guys she hangs out with. If he found out she was here and dancing with the two of them? He'd be upset enough knowing she's spent so much time with you tonight. He'd go absolutely insane."

"Why doesn't she leave him?" I asked, frowning.

He shrugged. "I don't know. We keep telling her to, but she doesn't listen." He shook his head and, when he looked back at me, he narrowed his eyes jokingly. "Let's stop talking about that. What about you, Blue?"

"What about me?" I responded.

"Have any girlfriends in the states?"

I laughed. "Yeah right; I'm lucky enough to have a family that doesn't think I'm completely insane."

"How are you insane?" he questioned. "You seem perfectly normal to me."

"I like reading and I keep to myself most of the time." He rolled his eyes and I laughed awkwardly. "My town relies on partying and the nightlife. They don't care about things like self-respect and dignity."

"And you do?" he said.

"I care about it more than anyone else there."

His eyes met mine and he sighed. "I don't understand people like that. If they _like_ partying and going out, it's different, because it means they also have a life outside of it—some people go to school or have families they need to take care of, and they go out one night a month or something, that's okay. But when they do it every day, night after night, it's ridiculous. They're like robots."

He frowned. "I go to clubs a lot, but that's solely for dancing purposes. Sometimes it gets boring, always dancing in the same place for the same people. Things like this are for the people who're trying too hard to be sophisticated or just want an excuse to get dressed up. But I have a job; I have a family to go home to. I'm just… an awkward in-between I guess."

"It's one extreme or the other," I said. "You're either heavy on the partying or heavy on studying. I don't go to school or college, but I love learning, and I don't even try to go out and have fun. I'm more of an awkward in-between than you are. If Xion hadn't asked me, I probably would've left, but now I'm interested in everything over here."

"Why did you come over here?" he asked seriously.

I ducked my head. "I don't know. I just wanted to see what it was like over here, if it was the same." Clearing my throat, I looked up at him and asked, "Can we stop dancing? I think my legs are jelly."

He laughed and nodded, moving beside me and placing an arm around my shoulders. "What about you, Blondie?" I asked him with a grin. "Do you have any girlfriends over here?"

"Wrong team," he said, laughing. "But I know what you mean, and no; I'm perfectly single." He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, and then he shrugged. A few seconds later, he told me, "What, no intense gasping? No yelling? I'm shocked."

I grinned at him, recognizing his joking tone. "We just spent about fifteen minutes dancing together. I figured you either liked guys, or you were just _really_ friendly."

He laughed aloud. "And you?" he asked. "Do you like guys, or are _you_ really friendly?"

Still smirking, I looked away, towards the couples still on the dance floor. "I'm still too young to think about that, I think."

He was quiet as he contemplated that, but then he nodded. "Fair enough, Blue. You're what, twenty? I'm only twenty-one. But if you like someone, you like someone. That's what I believe, anyway."

"It's a good thing to believe. No limitations, right?"

He grinned, nodding. "No limitations," he repeated. Then he nudged my arm. "Do you want to go outside and walk around?"

"Eh, sure," I said.

As we wandered around, trying to find the right exit—many of the doors led to hallways and office-like rooms—we rambled on about various topics. He mentioned his family a number of times, talking about his sister and how he was the elder of the two; I spoke little, but mentioned my fascination with illusions and magic-tricks. Finally, when we found the right door leading outside, we followed one of the lit isle-ways.

Outside, everything felt magical—vines decorated the sides of the building all around, and mingled in with the vines were twinkling lights, enough to light the way without looking tacky. Leaves were strewn all over the ground from the light breeze that came with the autumn weather, leaving behind crimson and gold as a constant colour. Few flowers were present—at least where the blonde and I were—but the air had a sweet scent, as though there were bouquets close by. It felt like everything was a movie-set, decorated for a fairy tale.

"Do you want to talk about yourself?" the blonde asked, a smile lilting his speech.

Moving my eyes to him, I shook the hair out of my right eye. "I'm twenty, no sexual preference, Atheist, and from the United States. This is my natural hair colour, so don't ask what dye I use, and yes, I know I'm short. Now you know almost everything about me, Blondie."

"And it's now my turn?" he asked.

"Correct," I said.

"Well," he began slowly. "I'm a natural blonde, typically a smartass, and an extrovert most of the time. I graduated high school with honors, work as a dance instructor, and I have a sister."

I laughed. "I could tell you were an extrovert from about two seconds of talking to you. Besides, you already told me half of that, it doesn't count."

"Shut up," he laughed. "I could tell you were introverted before I even started talking to you, and I already knew you were American."

"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes with a wide grin on my face. "What kind of dance do you do?"

"Everything," he answered, "from hip-hop to jazz to ballet. My favourite is freestyle—just put on a playlist and let my body run wild."

"I guess dancing is like writing, in a way," I said.

He laughed. "What? How?"

Smiling, I looked ahead of me. "Writing has a ton of different subgenres, like romance and horror and fantasy, and novels and poetry and haikus and stories, but there are people like me who just like writing, any shape and form."

He shrugged. "I guess so, but I still don't see it."

I grinned, still looking ahead of me, ignoring him. I saw Xion further ahead in front of me, and was about to yell her name in greeting, but stopped abruptly when I saw a tall man yelling at her.

The blonde next to me, too, stopped laughing. When I glanced at him face, he was pale with anger, and he was looking at the scene with a look of venom in his eyes. "Damn him," he murmured. But when the two of us saw the man reach his arm back and hit Xion, the blonde beside me gave a yell of rage and ran towards him.

I trailed after him, reaching the scene at the same time as Axel. I ran straight to Xion, trusting Axel and the blonde to get the man, and met Roxas there. Xion's eyes were wet with tears and her mask had slipped off, revealing a redness surrounding her left cheekbone.

"I'm fine, I'm okay," she said in a weak whisper, her voice thick with suppressed emotion.

"Xion, no you aren't. What the fuck is his problem?" Roxas said vehemently.

My eyes widened as I looked back to see the blonde attempting to fight the man, Axel holding him back. In a matter of seconds it seemed, Axel's grip on the blonde slipped and he surged forward, hitting the abuser, but getting hit himself, and knocked to the ground with a shove. He then was kicked, just before the abuser ran off with a final look at the scene that had unfolded around him. Almost subconsciously, I ran towards the blonde and knelt beside him.

"Hey, Blondie—Blondie, get up. Oh, what in the _hell_ is your real name? Blondie sounds stupid—" I stopped talking and removed the mask from his face, revealing a number of faint freckles on his skin, and touching my fingertips on the already swelling temple.

Then a corner of his mouth lifted and his eyes clenched with a wince. He opened one eye and glared at the direction the man had run in. "Douche," he said quietly. "I always thought he was hitting her, but she always denied, and we never actually saw it…." He sat up slowly, and I placed a hand on the small of his back. He smiled at me, but it was tight and forced. "I'm fine, just pissed. How's Xion?"

At the mention of her name, I looked up at saw Axel lifting her and setting her down on the stone bench closest to us. I stood, looked down at the blonde on the ground in front of me, and held both my hands out, pulling him up and looking in his eyes for any sign of pain. He dusted himself off and, after looking at Xion, walked towards her.

Roxas had moved next to Xion, and he was rubbing her back consolingly. Axel, it appeared, was only pacing the distance in front of her. The blonde carefully and cautiously knelt on his knee on the ground in front of her, then did to her what I did to him, and ran his fingertips over the swelling skin.

"Xion," he said in a surprisingly gentle voice, "why do you… why are you still with him?"

She shook her head, ducking it slightly and lowering her eyes. "That's why," she said in a whisper. She trembled as Roxas suddenly began cursing at the man who wasn't there to hear it.

Xion looked at me, her eyes filling further. "I'm sorry, Zexion. Everything was supposed to be good tonight, and it wasn't. And I never even told you about him; that makes it worse."

"Don't," I told her. "You didn't have to. But why, Xion? Why are you with him?"

She frowned. "He used to be kind. We were together for two years! And he asked me to marry him, but he started gambling and drinking…. I haven't seen him or talked to him in almost two weeks, and then he shows up tonight and this happens…."

The blonde said, "That's no excuse, Xion. You know I love you and you're pretty much my sister, but he's been rude to you weeks before he started drinking. He's a jackass, sober or not."

Xion opened her mouth, then shut it. She nodded and let herself be buried in my chest, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

It was an effective end to the night. Each of us left to our respective homes or hotels, wanting nothing more than to forget about the events. Blondie, however, walked back to my side once Xion, Axel, and Roxas had left.

I tried to smile, but only managed to lift a corner of my mouth. For the second time that evening, I ran my fingertips along the purpling skin on his cheekbone and temple, immediately stopping when he winced. When I began putting my hand down, however, he grabbed it in his own and held it tightly.

"C'mon, Zexion. I'm taking you to your hotel so you can get some sleep."

* * *

_Author's note:_

_I apologize for the wait! I've been to lazy to copy it down. I have a good portion of chapter 5 written already, but chances are I'll scrap it and rewrite it because it's irking me as of currently. This chapter seems considerably longer than the first three, but I guess I'll found out whether that's actually true. Just looking at it through a document, though, it seems longer._

_As always, you guys are welcome to follow me in instagram (where I occasionally post picture-previews of new fics or new originals or new chapters) and tumblr (where I'm pretty sure you'll think I'm on drugs, but I swear I'm not)._

_Instagram: __cougarlips__  
Tumblr: __cougarlipsandfamousanus_

_Those aside, thank you for reading. If you like it or find any grammatical/spelling errors, please leave a review so I can fix it!_

_ALSO: I've made this fic the prequel to Dancing with Tears in my Eyes, a oneshot I posted a few weeks ago. It wasn't intentional when I began writing this fic, but as people asked me for another fic or chapter explaining what all had happened to cause that fic, and since this fic has similar character stories, I'm just writing it as such now. So that is a thing now c:_


	5. Chapter 5

For most of the following week, I spent my time with Roxas, Axel, and Xion. They kept up a game of questions throughout the first two days after the ball, some of the questions serious, but most of them ridiculous.

"Xion," Axel said one time during those two days, a knowing laugh etched in his face, "would you rather spend an eternity battling rubber duckies, or take the time to fight one house-sized rubber ducky?"

Another questioned was asked in direction to me, from Xion, and she asked, "Would you ever cut off all of your hair to sell it for money, if it could get you anything necessary to become a published writer and get you out of that god-awful desk job?"

I never properly answered that question, now that I realize it. I only laughed, and shook my head, because it was that moment that Roxas pointed and said, "Hey, look! It's that blonde guy you were with, Zex-at the party."

And of course, when I glanced over in the direction he was pointing, I knew it was Blondie from the sea-foam coloured eyes, freckles, and bruising scattered over the left side of his face.

"Him?" Xion asked, her eyes wide. "That's Aerith's brother!" With a quick glance at me and a mischievous light in her eyes, she sprinted towards the guy, and then—when she reached him—stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

Roxas and Axel both grinned widely, no doubt at the look on my face. I could feel heat rushing into my cheeks, and brought a hand up in an attempt to shield the red skin from any onlookers. That, however, only resulted in the two men beside me grabbing my arms and dragging me forward, joining Xion and the blonde.

"Zexion!" said Xion, her voice sickeningly sweet yet still amused. "This is Demyx, Aer's brother. Demyx, this is Zexion, who you already know."

His face held a look of pleasant surprise, though it didn't quite mask the grin threatening on the sides of his mouth. "It's nice to officially meet you, Zexion." In an undertone, he added, "Even though I already knew you."

"Hey," I said lamely, trying to ignore the snickers around us.

And then the three were walking away, leaving Demyx and I alone. Xion, walking backwards to face us, grinned at us and said, "Have him back at Marluxia and Larxene's shop by six, Demyx!" before turning back around and running off with Axel and Roxas.

If the blonde—Demyx, apparently—hadn't been laughing before, he now was wiping tears from his eyes and chortling at the three who had just left. I, however, held my right hand to my face in an attempt to shield the redness from his view. I knew, if he'd seen it, it would bring a whole new round of laughter.

"So!" the blonde said, and I could hear, as clear as day, the smile in his voice. "Zexion—haven't seen you since Saturday! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

Peeking through a gap in my fingers, I narrowed my eyes at him. "It's only Monday," I said obviously.

"And?" he countered. "I'd have thought you would sketch my face and put it on Wanted posters." He offered a smile at me, but then he ducked down to look me in the eyes. "C'mon, Zex, it's a joke," he whined. He placed his hands over mine and pulled the one away from my face and he smiled. "We have until six, you know. It's only noon—where do you want to go?"

"Go?" I asked, abandoning my attempt at sulking. He looked too pathetic for me to keep it up—which, I noted, was _probably_ his reasoning behind looking like a kicked puppy in the first place. "What do you mean, where do I want to go?"

"We have six hours!" he said, as if it answered everything. "There's a carnival in town today, or we can go walking around town, or go window shopping. I want to get to know you more, to be honest," he said, somewhat quietly, as though embarrassed.

"Well," I said, thinking it over for a few seconds. "What do you want to go?"

With a roll of his eyes, he grabbed my hand and started walking straight ahead. I following, as if I had any say in the matter, but he smiled down at me.

"I hope you don't mind," he said, after a few minutes. "I like holding your hand."

I looked down at our joined hands, and I shrugged. I said, "I haven't given it much thought, really. I just figured you wanted me to follow and not have a chance to run away."

He laughed aloud, and I had to smile at the sound. It was warm and inviting, unlike so many other people's laughs, which often sounded forced and short.

More minutes passed, and I could tell he was trying to think of something to say, but was unsuccessfully getting it out. I looked up at him, at his purple and yellow skin and blue-green eyes, and at the somewhat tanned freckles. His hair, I noted, was shaved on either side of his head, leaving something of an overgrown Mohawk down the center of his scalp. The style suited him, though I doubted it would have worked out on anybody else.

"Zex," he said then, "how much longer are you planning on staying here?"

I offered him a shrug. "I only intended on staying until today, actually. I think my hotel only offered me a five-day stay, and today's my fifth day here."

He frowned. "Do you plan on staying longer?"

I laughed, and when he looked down at me the worried look on his face dissolved. "I think it's kind of obvious I'm staying longer," I told him. "I don't think I could leave now even if I wanted to."

His face brightened, though it then almost physically dimmed. "Where'd you stay, though, if your hotel only offered you five days?"

"I would've figured that out when it happened, I guess," I told him honestly.

He nodded. With our joined hands, he lifted our fists to point in the general direction of a large Ferris wheel. With a look on his face that would've suited an eight year old better, he said, "D'you want to go to the carnival, Zex?"

"Even if I say no, you'll still drag me over there," I said with a sigh. At the saddened look on his face, I had to laugh and add, albeit sarcastically, "I'm kidding, Demyx; of _course_ I'll go with you to the carnival."

And then he took off, and I almost fell over because of how much faster he was going than I was—which wasn't really a speed difference as it was more of how much longer his legs were than mine. I only reached his neck in height, and it seemed he had more legs than upper-body length.

Demyx led us through numerous alleys and street corners, never slowing down until, at last, the large Ferris wheel was directly in front of us. He found the ticket master, exchanged what cash money he had for tickets, and then paid the two tickets for the both of us to enter our designated carriage.

"I love Ferris wheels," he said, a gleeful look on his face. "They're not as fun as roller-coasters, but they have such a cool view of the city." We slowly were rotating, and he pointed out the window. "My apartment is right there!" he said. Steadily higher, he pointed again. "I work at that little purple building." At the peak of the ride, he grinned down at the ground. "Everyone looks so tiny, like ants."

His cheeks were flushed with excitement, and save for the general "punk" vibe he gave off, he resembled a little kid so much that it was difficult to remember he was the older of the two of us.

The many rides we went on all were designed primarily for children, but all of which made Demyx look happier and happier. His favourite, he told me, were the teacup rides. "Spin the wheel with me!" he kept yelling when we were in our yellow teacup. His hair was whipping around his face, as was mine, and we had to keep our limbs tucked away as secure as possible and our fingers as tight around the wheel as we could manage to keep from the risk of them flailing out, so we turned and spun the wheel as fast as we could manage until we were both dizzy and leaning on each other for support.

"Oh my god," I said, still waiting for the world to stop spinning a minute after the ride stopped. My sides hurt from laughing, and Demyx was already hauling me towards another ride, this one like a miniature roller-coaster ride that spun in a rough oval and sped up, slowed down, and even went backwards.

That particular ride held no meaning of the words "personal space" as Demyx and I both were tossed into one another as it alternated between going forward and backwards. As it sped up, we gripped the rail tightly, our faces feeling as though they'd be stuck in a smile permanently and our sides still aching from so much laughter, and then when it picked up its speed and began to maintain it, our eyes were clenched, as though that would prevent the world from seeming so blurry.

When, finally, Demyx and I had ridden every ride available to the adults—including the large swing-set ride, a ride called the Viking, and one called the Space Shuttle which included being vertically strapped down in a circular container and thrown every which way until the minute-long ride was over—we found ourselves in a situation where we both were hungry but fearful of eating anything, as we were worried it would come right back out from the sheer amount of spinning we'd already experienced.

"How about some candy floss?" he asked me.

With a look of confusion on my face, I asked him, "Candy floss is just cotton candy, right?"

He pointed to a woman who was, indeed, making cotton candy, and he rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Why would you Americans call it cotton candy? That just sounds disgusting!" he exclaimed as we walked towards the woman.

"Because candy floss sounds so much better? It sounds like something you'd get from a dentist," I told him.

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, but ignored me in favour of the woman. "May I have two large sticks of candy floss?" he asked her with a smile.

"What flavour?" she asked him. "We've got blueberry, grape, vanilla, banana, strawberry, and cherry."

Demyx looked at me, and before I could get out an answer he looked back at the woman. "I would like a banana, and he'd like a blueberry."

"What?" I said indignantly. "I don't like blueberry!"

The woman then turned and began making the candy, and as she did Demyx turned to me with a grin on his face. "You _look_ like the kind of guy who'd like blueberry cotton candy. Besides, they all taste the same—they're all solidified sugar—so why are you fussing?"

"I am _not_ fussing," I said to him, though he only laughed aloud again.

"You have a look on your face that clearly says you're fussing, Zexion," he said, turning back to the woman who held our respective food over the counter. I noticed her running her eyes down his body—his skinny jeans and tank top that revealed an inch or two of skin at his waist, and his hoodie to compensate for the fact that it _was_ a rather chilly day—and a look of _want_ in her eyes.

"Have a good day," he said to the woman, apparently oblivious to her entirely, leaving five tickets each for the cotton candy and handing me my own. I tore a piece off and ate it, savoring the way it melted immediately onto my tongue. Demyx, I noticed, was smirking at me out of the corner of his eyes.

"But Zexion," he said in mock innocence, "I thought you didn't _like_ blueberry cotton candy!"

To which I only hit his arm with my own knuckle and proceeded on with my cotton candy. My mind was still thinking about the candy woman, and I was frustrated at how unnerved she made me feel.

He smiled at me and bit straight into his own stick of cotton candy, leaving a large chuck missing. "That's how you're supposed to eat it," he said, "like a _man_."

Just for emphasis, I daintily tore another piece off and stuck it in my mouth. "Does that make me a sissy, then?"

He narrowed his eyes at me with a smile curving his lips. "You've got too much dude-like charm to ever be considered a sissy to me," he said.

And I never found out if he was joking or being honest when he said that.

We walked on, however, and instead of getting on more rides, Demyx and I meandered to the opposite end of the park that was more of a true carnival than the amusement part. There were the typical carnival games—like the game that measures how hard you can hit a target with a hammer and face painting that went in such great detail that it was amazing it was done in about ten minutes with two people—but the further you delved in the more you saw the truly extraordinary people.

First, we saw a man roughly the size of a small whale—a very muscular, small whale. He was as wide as he was tall, as though he truly was a whale. He stood in front of a building, standing tall and stoic, that had a sign depicting a cartoon version of the man and the name _The Human Hulk_.

"Fitting, isn't it?" I said to Demyx, looking at the tall man. I only subconsciously realized I edged closer to my friend, partly due to the fact that I was, quite literally, half as tall as the carnie in front of us.

Demyx looked down at me and took another bite of his cotton candy. "He looks like he'd get along with some of my friends," he said, completely seriously, though his eyes were looking at him appraisingly.

I only laughed in response, and Demyx smiled, and we turned and walked on.

We next saw a considerably tanned man with silver hair—not to be confused with gray hair, as it most certainly wasn't—who quite clearly was the Ringleader. He dressed as if he belonged in a movie, with a pinstriped waistcoat, matching pants, and boots fitting of an army general.

"Welcome, welcome, one and all!" he said loudly and clearly, waving in a grand fashion to all watchers who were standing around him. "Today is a very special day, as we will be picking two lucky audience members in a special game. That, however," he said, a sly grin on his face, "will not be until later."

The audience, who had stopped in their gait, all either held looks of anticipation or fear, some even with looks of both emotions. The silver haired man began speaking again.

"Ladies and gents, my name is Xemnas, and I welcome you to the circus," he said simply. With a wave of his arms, he welcomed two people: one a girl in a very revealing ribbon-like top and shorts, the other a man wearing pants that resembled what a gymnast would wear.

It was obvious that the pair were dancers. They began a carefully constructed dance and led the way into the big top, where a large arena was placed in the center of the tent, and all the way around the arena were seats that quite resembled what you would find in a football field.

Demyx led me by the hand into the tent, and he sat the both of us down as close to the carnies as possible. As everyone seated, they continued their elaborate movements. At one point, the man picked the woman up and began spinning her in the air—something I didn't think anyone did in real life—and Demyx pointed and said, "That takes some major upper body strength, even with as tiny as she is!"

I found it hard to be as focused on the dancers, though, as I was more interested in watching Demyx. Much like at the fair, his face was glowing with excitement. His eyes followed the dancers as though they were magical, and I remembered Demyx mentioning at the masquerade how he was a dancer. I wondered idly if Demyx knew how to dance like the couple on the floor.

His hand held mine tightly, and his eyes remained riveted on the pair on the floor, at least until suddenly all curtains around the big top and all entrances were shut, leaving the room nearly black with darkness. A spotlight appeared on the pair.

Up close—or as close as I could've gotten to them—the pair looked even more beautiful. The woman, petite and black haired, wore very little makeup save for glitter on her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. The man, despite a scar running in between his eyes, had rich brown hair and though he didn't smile much, the look in his eyes when he saw the girl beside him held enough warmth to compensate.

And then he picked her up and she climbed her way up the man's back on stood on his shoulders. Reaching up, she grabbed a ribbon that had been dropped when the lights were out, and she was pulled up until she seemed almost as though she were steadily floating upwards. The man looked up at the woman once more before Xemnas returned and gestured towards the man.

"Leon, everybody!" he announced before the man bowed and exited the arena. Once more, Xemnas's face held a mischievous look. He looked up, and we all saw the girl dancing in the midst of dozens of ribbons. Without turning away, he said, "Our very talented Yuffie is performing this for the very first time this evening, and you all are lucky enough to be the first crowd ever to witness this extraordinary routine."

He then walked away and everyone looked back up at the girl who was shining with what looked like sweat. Demyx leaned over and said, "Ribbon dancing is like ballet in the air. She doesn't even have a net underneath her if she falls—one wrong move and she could die, as high in the air as she is right now."

Looking up at the girl, I saw her twirl on one of the ribbons and my heart nearly stopped when her hand appeared to slip. I wasn't the only one, either. Nearly every audience member gasped, and even her partner, Leon, ran out and glared in the direction of the ringleader. She quickly curled a leg around one of the looped ribbons and made a move like a pirouette, but upside down. I was close enough to see that her chest was rising and falling, as if she was so nervous her breathing pattern was messed up.

Finally, the ribbon her leg was curled around lowered her towards the ground. She pulled herself up enough to grab the ribbon with her hands just as her legs reached the ground. When both her feet were firmly on the dirt floor, she released the ribbon and stood with her arms above her head and bowed low, much to the applause she received. She then was engulfed in the arms of her fellow carnies and Leon.

Yet again, Xemnas appeared and he smiled at the crowd. "The last show of the evening is featuring our very own Xigbar, who will require two audience members."

A tall man separated himself from the group surrounding Yuffie, and the man gave a distinct feeling of danger. He appeared to be one of the oldest performers, with long black hair in a ponytail—which only highlighted the fact that he had several grey streaks—and an eye patch.

"I welcome you all to see my performance, and as my good friend has stated already, I will need two willing participants." The man flashed a smile, though it resembled more a bearing of teeth. He looked down at his hands before continuing into the megaphone he held.

"For this challenge, I will need two people who are willing to put their wills to the test. A trick of mine is not mine without the risk of danger. As a participant, you're agreeing that any cause for injury is your own fault. You are, by coming out, putting your faith in me and trusting me with your life." With a slight pause, he added, "I give you my word that no major harm will come to you, however, as it is in my contract." He earned a few weak chuckles at that.

He looked out in the audience, his one eyebrows rising and he put his hands together in front of him. "No volunteers?" he asked. He hummed under his breath, and then walked towards the seats.

"How about you two?" he asked a couple, and the pair laughed and shook their heads. "Aw, you guys are such party-poopers," he laughed, but walked away.

Steadily walking closer to Demyx and me, he stopped again and looked at two people only two rows away from the two of us. Before he even got a word out, the pair shook their heads almost instinctively.

He then stalked on, and his eyes roamed over the row Demyx and I sat on. He hummed even more before stopping in front of the blonde next to me.

"How about you, Punk?" he asked jokingly.

Demyx grinned up at the man and took his hand, standing up. Xigbar then looked down at me. "How about your friend here? Will he come up?"

Demyx looked meaningfully at me and grabbed my hands. "Please, Zex—c'mon!" His sea-foam eyes were wide and begging. Somehow, I couldn't find it within myself to deny Demyx. With a resigned sigh, I stood and the audience around us cheered.

Xigbar laughed at the reaction of the crowd before turning to Demyx and I and, turning the megaphone away, said, "I promise you two won't get hurt, it's just a ruse, really. Come after the show and we'll give you a private tour if you'd like, in case this scars you emotionally."

And with a wink, he was leading us out of the seats and onto the dirt floor. "May I have your names?" he asked the both of us, his megaphone at his mouth again. He then handed it to Demyx, who introduced himself into it with, "Hey, my name is Demyx," and waving awkwardly at the crowd.

When the megaphone was handed to me, I said a simply, "I'm Zexion," and handed it back to Xigbar, who looked at the pair of us.

"So," he said, bringing the megaphone back up to his lips. "A quick Q and A, if you don't mind? Demyx, where'd you get those bruises?" he asked jokingly.

And he, in response, laughed and said, "I got punched."

Xigbar laughed. "And how do you two know each other? Are you friends, brothers, boyfriends—what are you?"

Demyx and I looked at each other, and Demyx said into the megaphone, though still looking at me, "We've known each other for a few days now, but we're friends."

With a nod, Xigbar looked back at the crowd, who appeared to slowly stare at the three of us. When a careful step away from Demyx and I, he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I am what we refer to as the Gunman. I'm known for being able to hit moving and still targets, close or far away. This next trick you're about to see requires a great deal of concentration, and also trust in yours truly to not accidently blow a bullet through your head.

"My talent ranges everywhere from guns to bows and arrows," he added. "I'm quite skilled at slingshots, as well. If I can throw something, my aim will be true. I have lightning fast reflexes and the ability to adapt to most, if not all, situations at a moment's notice.

"This trick you are about to see is one that is portrayed in many movies, TV shows, and even has been attempted by people all around the world, many of whom who are not skilled or professional, and they have paid dearly for their mistakes."

The arena was so quiet that it would've been heard if a pen had been dropped. Every person's eyes were stared unblinkingly at Xigbar, whose voice had taken a serious tone.

"I would like to reiterate that this is not something to be tried at home," he said, in a very clear voice. "Do not think yourselves so stupidly talented enough to risk the lives of loved ones."

He looked at Demyx and I, and he said into the megaphone, "My two lovely volunteers are named Demyx and Zexion. If you two will follow me," he said, and walked to the opposite end of the dirt floor, where two seats had been placed side by side. "Zexion and Demyx will be taking these two chairs at the east end of the room. They both will place these apples on their heads. I am going to walk to the west end of the room, where I will shoot both a bullet and an arrow at these two men."

At this, he lowered the megaphone and glanced at Demyx and I. He nodded fractionally at us, as if reassuring that we wouldn't get hurt. Demyx, beside me, gently grabbed my arm by the elbow and sat me down in the chair. His hand, again, met mine and he held it soothingly. With his free hand, he placed the apple—rather large, I noticed vaguely—on the top of my head. He then placed his own apple on his head.

Xigbar, already at the other end of the room, seemed much farther away than when Demyx and I were in the stands. He resembled more of a blurry dot than a man.

"Hey, Zex?" said Demyx in an undertone. "If we don't die tonight, would you like to consider this our first date?"

It took nearly all of my self control to keep from laughing, more from shock than anything else. "If we don't die tonight, Demyx, this will be more than exciting enough to count as a date. And if we _do_ die tonight… well, I'm going to beat you in heaven."

And with a chuckle that was cut short within milliseconds, an arrow whizzed past the both of us and I felt my hair ruffle as an apple fell behind my head. The crowd around us cheered and screamed, and we could hear Xigbar's megaphone in the distance, announcing his switching to a gun.

All attempts at conversation were stopped abruptly as Demyx's grip on my hand tightened. Seconds felt like hours as his eyes clenched, my stomach clenched, and we waited for the sound of a trigger.

And then, the next thing we knew, Demyx's apple soared behind him, and he was gasping and clutching his chest, laughing like he was manic. Looking behind us, he pointed and laughed harder, and when I, too, turned around, I saw what remained of the apples, which really meant there weren't many remains at all.

Everyone screamed as they stood and clapped, and Xigbar jogged over to us with a smile. "I'm sorry, you guys," he said with a nervous grin. "We have to do all the disclaimers; I didn't mean to scare you guys." He stopped and looked around to see his fellow carnies enter the arena—most of whom Demyx and I had already missed—and they all linked hands and bowed.

Then Demyx and I were being spoken to by Xemnas, the ringleader. "You two okay?" he asked.

Demy nodded, answering for the both of us. "We're fine, actually. Save for the heart attacks we may have experienced a few minutes ago, we're pictures of health!"

Xemnas nodded and smirked, then looked at us both. "Well, you two were brave enough to risk getting shot in the skulls—if you'd like to talk to any of us or get to know us, you're more than welcome, as long as you respect each member's privacy and space."  
With a look at me, Demyx's eyes lit and he said, "Wanna go talk to Yuffie and Leon? I want to ask them about their dance—if they have any pointers for me, you know."

I smiled and shrugged. "By all means, Demyx, I'm not stopping you."

He then walked towards the girl, whose hair, I noticed, wasn't black but a very dark, very rich brown. Demyx looked at her for a good minute before she noticed and, with a laugh, waved him over.

"You two are much braver than any of us," she said with a laugh. "None of us have been able to stomach the chances of being target practice for Xig." She looked over at Leon, who joined us. With a roll of her eyes and a pout on her face, she told him, "Why do you always look so serious, Squall? It wouldn't kill you to smile every once in a while."

The man shrugged and looked at Demyx and me. "May we help you?" he said politely.

Demyx, with a furious blush on his cheeks—I had to keep myself from laughing with every ounce of my being—looked down at his hands. "I was wondering—if you don't mind—could you—erm—"

Yuffie laughed at him and then looked at me. "Could you translate for him, please?" she asked me.

"From a dancer to another dancer, he wanted to ask you about the routine you two performed together," I said with repressed laughs. Demyx's face had turned cherry coloured, and he gave a false cough into his knuckles.

Yuffie, however, beamed at him. "It's always nice to meet other dancers! Our routine is something we've been doing for years. It's pretty much all improv, though. We've spent at least three-quarters of our lives just making up routines as we went along. Two years ago, the circus came to town and we packed a suitcase and joined them as dancers. I only just started the ribbon dancing, but it's—"

"Mainly just ballet in the air," she and Demyx finished together.

She smiled. "They've been trying to get me to perform it live for months now," she confessed. "I've just been too nervous of falling. I'm such a stubborn person—I didn't want a safety net underneath me, so I needed to perfect my dance, and even tonight I screwed up."

Leon cut her off before she continued with, "You didn't screw up, Yuffie. Your palms were sweating, as any human being's palms would in that situation. You didn't have to do it at all tonight, and you knew that we had a safety net within handling distance if you would've only been less stubborn."

She rolled her eyes, and then turned back to Demyx. "Ignore my brother," she said with a grin. "But our dance is primarily improv—if we rehearse a specific routine too much, it all goes to the trash if we mess one little bit up during a show. If it's all improv'd, we have less a chance of screwing up further if we only screw up one little bit. Tonight was actually a good night, I think, because we didn't mess up at all," she said proudly.

Demyx smiled at her, and then up at Leon. "You're really good," he told him. "I was telling Zex when we were watching that you must have a ton of upper body strength to be able to pick her up and spin her around. But you both," he said, "are _really_ good dancers. I hope you don't mind if I use some of your moves." He brought a hand up to his neck and chuckled.

"What do you mean?" Yuffie asked, a curious tone in her voice.

Demyx shrugged, looking away from her. "I work at a dance studio," he mumbled. "I'm one of their instructors for contemporary dances."

Yuffie looked up at Leon with wide eyes and then back at Demyx, a grin on her face, her hands clenched together in front of her chest. "That's so cool!" she exclaimed. "I've never taken lessons in my life—do you guys use the eight-count and everything?"

"It depends on your instructor," Demyx laughed. "I just clap it out."

Yuffie turned to me. "And what about you?" she asked excitedly. "Do you dance?"

I shook my head quickly, and she laughed again. "You look like someone who dances a lot," she said with a smile at me.

Leon then looked at Yuffie and said to her, "Yuffie, it's about time for us to go. "

She looked at him with wide eyes. "What? How is it already eight?"

Demyx and I, immediately, looked at each other and cursed. Yuffie jumped and looked at us. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Demyx smiled at her apologetically. "Sorry!" he said to her. "I was supposed to have him back two hours ago! Our friend is going to kill me for being so late. Thank you for the tips, by the way!" he yelled as he and I ran out of the big top.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This chapter alone was ten pages on Microsoft Word. Ten pages! The enitre document so far is only twenty-one pages long! That's insane, considering I haven't written anything this long since my Andley fic.

So, allow me to get a few things out really quick.

1) I have a working laptop with up-to-date Microsoft Word. Expect many more chapters this week.

2) I'm on Spring Break until April 1. Excpect a lot of writing this week.

3) I've never been to a genuine carnival, with Muscle Men and contortionists and tight-rope dancers, so I hope I'm not completely screwing this chapter up by including this. This chapter is, essentially, a really big filler. I don't want to get to the climax of the fic just yet, but I don't have anything planned for the "rising action" part except for Demyx and Zexion getting closer.

4) I based the rides in this fic on rides I've been on when I lived in Virginia. Mainly Busch Garden rides, like the Viking's Ship and the swing ride, which are my favourite rides of all time, along with the Tea Cups and whatever that backwards/forwards miniature roller coaster ride is called. _That_ ride I haven't ridden since I was probably eight, though, because they didn't have that exact ride at Busch Gardens and I only rode it once or twice at the Strawberry Festival in VA.

5) I only know what we Americans call cotton candy. I've seen people from other countries call it different things; I think it was the Europeans who called cotton candy "candy floss". I remember someone saying every called it fairy floss where they're from, while someone else said they call it something else. I tried to Google it, but as my laptop is stupid and I'm not able to download any other web browser than Internet Explorer, I'm trying to avoid any website that isn't fanfiction, Tumblr, YouTube, or deviantART. If you call cotton candy something different, could you please leave it as a review for me? I literally spent all my life up until seeing that text post thinking cotton candy was called cotton candy everywhere.

Thank you loads for reading this chapter, everybody, by the way! If you notice any typos/grammatical errors, please either leave it in a review or PM me. I won't get offended, honestly. Also, if you notice anything that may be out of context, or something that is incorrect as far as the sequential order of the fic goes, please feel free to inform me. I recently reread and re-edited the previous chapters and I found several things that simply didn't mesh right with something that was said at a previous moment in the fic.


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